Sherlock has a family?
by sakura-blossoms-26
Summary: AU Kid!John What happens when Sherlock has a fling in his twenties? Certainly not something he'd thought about but he now had a kid- one with Cerebral Palsy. How can he get through this?


I had a kid? That one time when I was high was it, the only time I had sex and now I have to deal with a kid. A kid who just lost his mom, a kid who's barely 3 years old and disabled. This is just positively wonderful. I need a murder..

My name is Sherlock Holmes, a consulting detective for the New Scotland Yard, the bunch of bumbling idiots that they call 'detectives'. Hmph, They're all just idiots that I can barely stand. Right now though I feel like the idiot.

I ended up getting into cocaine when I was in my twenties and had a 'night on the town' as the Americans would call it. It was a wonderful night when I think about it but it turned out with the worst possibility of all, I now had a son named John (terribly boring name if you were to ask me). A son who was mentally disabled but smart as could be. Even with his Cerebral Palsy and medical issues, John ended up nothing like boring.

"Sherlock!" Lestrade called out to me from downstairs as I paced up and down, wearing marks into the carpet. Ah, he'd come in and seen John then. He'd fallen asleep in his chair so I moved and placed him on the couch. It was much more comfortable than that thing his mother called a wheelchair. It was really just a few pieces of cloth that had been worn down to almost nothingness. I'd have to get him a new one in a day or so. It didn't matter at the moment, I had Lestrade to deal with.

"What do you want? Is there another murder?" I said a bit curtly as I entered the room, pausing to place a blanket under John's head and drape one over his body, it could get terribly cold in the tiny flat. "There's a kid here Sherlock, we agreed on no kidnapping!" "I didn't kidnap him you bumbling dolt! He's my biological son, Protective Service dropped him off to the flat this morning with news that his mother, an old fling, had overdosed yesterday evening while high on meth. I'm the next of kin," I said curtly, looking at my son for the first real time.

John was a tiny thing with soft blonde hair that seemed to have a slight curl. That was obviously from me, his mother had strait blonde hair. His eyes were half covered by the hair but he had long lashes that cascaded down his eyes. He was short and small for his age but seemed to be only slightly disabled, mostly in the physical department. He wouldn't talk much from what the social workers had said.

"I'm sorry Sherlock. Are you alright?" "Yes, I'm fine. Mycroft is dropping off things for him and medical supplies. Apparently he needs shots given daily and care. As the father and next of kin I shall be caring for him," I wiped a lock of hair out of his face with a blank look. If you were to look closely you _might_ see a hint of emotion.

Almost immediately as soon as I said Mycroft's name he was there knocking on the door. Of course I motioned for Lestrade to simply open the door. I didn't have time for this trivial moment, I had an experiment going on in 221C. I'd moved my things for experiments downstairs when I was told John (definitely not boring by the way) would be coming to live with me.

"Hello Mycroft, how is the diet going?" I asked, just barely looking up at him. "Splendid little brother," He said with a small sneer. "I brought what he will need for the first week or so and then it's on you to learn what he needs. I did bring the medical bed he sleeps in at his home along with his walker, his machines for at night and his medications that he takes. The instructions are included." I simply nodded, motioning for the two of them to leave. If I was correct in my calculations (I always am) then he would be waking up in a few moments and I assumed (Deducted really, it was too simple!) he wasn't good with multiple people. He only was by his mother.

They fought and bantered for a moment until John began shifting his head like toddlers (is he a child still? Must research) do when waking. At this point I all but pushed them out of the room. When they were gone I shut the door quietly and turned to see bleary eyes looking up at me. He'd managed to push himself up and sat up against the couch cushions. His eyes held a slight blank look but held a gleam of curiosity.

"Hello John, do you need something?" I asked somewhat quietly, kneeling in front of him. He shook his head and rubbed at his eyes before looking away and signing slowly with quaking hands. 'I need to use the bathroom.' With a small smile I nodded. "Alright, let's get you to our bathroom huh?" I asked before lifting him carefully into his chair. Note: see if Mycroft brought a new chair.

After getting him into the bathroom then back to his chair I brought him back to the living room to begin looking through what Mycroft had brought. "You can watch the telly, I'll be right over here," I said, pointing to the other side of the room where the boxes sat. With a nod from John I went over, making sure he was alright with the telly sitting in his chair.

I read some of the notes left for me but some I just set down. Apparently John was diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy almost immediately after birth with partial paralysis from the chest down due to birth defects. Birth defects that appeared because his mother and I were druggies. I found things like toys, physical therapy items, books, lists of his approved medications and one thing that puzzled me. It was a pump, one that looked like it was for an IV. He didn't have an IV, why would he need that?

It took a while before I found the note that went with it.

_Dear Sherlock,_

_I figured you'd go through this quickly. John is fed through a tube in his stomach called a G tube. It connects to his stomach and intestines as he aspirates into his lungs when he swallows. He is allowed to have soft things like Ice cream, jello, yogurt and sometimes drinks. The name and number of his doctor are on the fridge and he will be coming over at noon to explain everything to you. _

_Mycroft_

I snapped my neck up to look at the clock. 11:09. I needed a shower, shave and fresh clothes. But first I needed to make sure John was cleaned up. I grabbed some of his clothes, a pair of clean blue jeans and a-is that a superhero t-shirt? And a jumper.

"John, we need to get you cleaned up. Someone is coming over to see us," I said with a slight smile. Walking over he looked up at me from the telly. He had a crime show on. "You like those shows?" He certainly was a chip off the old block, maybe I could bring him to crime scenes. Storing that note in my mind palace I angled him towards me to take off his shirt and change it.

John nodded and pointed at it with a smile before looking at it. "I need you to look up at me right now, I need to change your clothes!" I said, giving him a soft tickle on the side. What did just? Had I just tickled a child, a toddler even? Why had I done that? It was confusing to say the least but I couldn't dwell. I needed to get him into his clothes, if you can even call them that, and make sure he was presentable.

I slid his t-shirt on before picking him up and putting him on the couch. This part would take some work, he needed to have pants put on him but the jeans that I took out seemed too large. "Stay, I'll be right back," With that I went over to the box and began looking.

Finding another note I worked on reading it. Mycroft again.

_Sherlock,_

_ I'm guessing you found that his clothes were too large. I debated letting you find it out on your own but that wouldn't be hard enough. John's mother had bought clothes that were too large, most likely having bought them while high or short on cash. The price tags were still on them but I removed them. Knowing you, you would have torn them off and left them where he could get them. I have left a pair of sweat pants and some warm socks as you keep the flat extremely cold._

_Take good care of him,_

_Mycroft_

With a loud growl I tore up the note and went on my way to find the sweats. As usual, Mycroft had to flaunt his ability to be smart even though I was smarter. I knew that they weren't in the box as he brought things from his home in the box. He'd left them in the kitchen under one of my coffee cups. Well, it wasn't truly mine as I did not use it.

I returned to find him sitting up against the couch nibbling on the cracker that I'd given him just hours before, before I knew that he was NPO (Nothing Per Oral) really. I came up and gently took the cracker from him with a slightly goofy look. If I kept him from crying we'd be okay- Damn it!

Tears began to well up almost immediately and I fumbled for a moment. What to do, what to do? I followed the instructions brought up from a single room in my mind palace and picked him up, gently rocking him. Note: Read up on what Meth does to fetus when mother is pregnant.

John calmed slowly and sniffled into my chest as I rocked him. When he was finally calm I set him back down, wiping the last of the tears away. "I don't know what your mother let you have, but that is not one of the things. I am taking care of you and don't want you to get sick," I said after tugging the last of his clothes on.

He rested his head against the couch cushion and rested there as we sat there, me crouching on the floor and him sitting there. With a bit of a sigh I moved to sit next to him, gently running my fingers through his medium length blonde hair. What would it have been like if I had been there when he was born? Had it have turned out the same way? Probably not, I would have still been into drugs and made it all that much worse.

With a heaving sigh I left for a moment after he'd fallen asleep again to change and shave, when had I shaved last? It seemed like ages ago. We were finished getting ready with only five minutes to spare, five minutes of blessed silence before the bell rang and I let out a uncharacteristic curse. "Shit!"

**There you have it, Ch. 1!**

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